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3 mos ago
Current Sorry for the delay to my partners, cold had me out. Replies will be pumped out shortly tho!
6 mos ago
Lmao I think there was a misunderstanding. Cutting as in cutting weight xD
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6 mos ago
I honestly forgot how tired and energy-less cutting could make me.
6 mos ago
My new stethoscope is finally here! I'm so hyped!
7 mos ago
@Odin; DA: Origins was the first RPG game I've ever played and I still tear up every time I think about that beautiful, wonderful game


Yo! I'm Torack, you can call me Jay!

I've been RPing for a long, long time. I blame it on my overactive imagination, but it's a wonderful medium to put all these creative ideas into some sorta use. My favourite genre is fantasy. Straight up fantasy. It can be high fantasy, low fantasy, dark, modern. I love fantasy, grew up with it. I also like sci-fi, dystopian settings, etc.. Characterization and character driven stories are my favourite type of RPs, I like seeing them grow and change and the way characters react to completely shit and horrible situations. It's always a fun time.

Personally, my hobbies include reading, although recently the only types of reading I've been doing is from text books ffs. I like sports, any type of sport really, except soccer. My legs are way too clumsy for that sport. Music is something I love, R&B mostly, although I'll listen to mostly anything.

I also love pie. Pie is life, especially pecan pie. It's damn near traumatizing knowing that I haven't eaten any in like five years. Sad times.



Most Recent Posts

Lucivar DeLuxor

Tavern in Askavi

He looked up from his drink and eyed all three Warlords for a few moments, taking note of their ranks before turning down to muddle into his own drink, his mind going back home thinking of how easily things could spiral out of control. One moment he was comfortably going through his day and within hours he was miles away, his Queen dead, and what was once his home in ruins. It made him wonder on how fragile their lives were. How easily a set of events once unleashed could spiral out of control and lead down a hole they would never get out of. It scared him. A part of him felt like he'd been in a situation like this before, the same sort of hole that happened too fast and spiralled too out control. Except he didn't make it out completely hole, did he?

A massive part of his life was gone. An entire history seemingly disappearing into nothing. And the same thing was happening again. Was he going to lose more than his memory this time? The thought amused him a little. There was clearly a pattern happening, some twisted stroke of fate or ill-luck took note of him and decided it wanted to fuck with him a little. Darkness fend, but wasn't this just great. Funny how he never even wanted any of this; he just wanted to go by unnoticed, keep his home civil and protected. At least he was alive, but at what cost? Was he right to flee instead of staying back and fighting to the bitter end? It was useless to second guess himself now that he was already so far away, the best he could do was let fate take him where it willed and hope that it somehow dind't end up with him dead.

But was that so bad? He wondered at it for a bit. A final end to everything: his memories, his home, and finally his life. It would fit perfectly.

Lucivar looked up when he heard one of the three Warlords speak, his eyes narrowing as he watched them fan out. Despite himself, he could feel the adrenaline beginning to course through him, his heart beating faster and his eyes catching the subtle movements around the room. He kept himself physically calm however as he turned back to his drink, noticing that Andressa's hand was on his own. He looked up at her and saw she had a warning look on her face, almost pleading with her eyes not to take the bait.

He turned back to his drink. "You want a fight, you've got one," he said as he turned the tankard in his hand distractedly, "I must warn you however. Yield or no, none if you will make it out alive."

Gen hesitated as the man looked up with narrowed eyes. A Warlord Prince was a dangerous foe even if the Warlord facing him wore the Green and had two other Warlord Princes at his back. As the woman laid a hand on the strange warrior's hand Gen took a mental step back and shot his brothers looks to rein in their own tempers. "We don't have the fight left." The de facto leader admitted. "Apologies Lady. These are troubled times and seeing a stranger appear with a battered woman...." He let his words trail off, the hint clear that the three brothers had suspected the worse.

The old grizzled bartender snorted at that. Going back to wiping out a tankard. "An' I'm not havin' any more fighting in here. Especially if you want to kill those three and bring Healer Ashkevron's wrath on your head." The name 'Ashkevron' was filled with a respect that was rare for such a warrior like the owner had been to give. "Bar's enough of a mess. Take it outside, or go deliver them and yourself to her doorstep and save the lass the trouble of hunting you down." The man guaffed in amusement as the two Warlord Princes snarled in irritation at their elder. Gen seemed more amused than anything else. But the three had stepped away from the killing field.

Lucivar frowned at the name and looked up at the barkeep, his head tilting slightly to the side. "I would have expected a little more spine from Eyrian Warlords," he said with a shrug. "Alas. I think we can do with a bit of healing anyway. This Ashkaveron, where are they?"

"Ashkevron." Gen corrected with a huff, "And we got spine." He didn't elaborate that if you lived near Ashkevron's eyrie then your spine learned when to bend to a Healer's will. "Her eyrie, I suspect. Our home." There was a defiant look in Gen's eye as he challenged Lucivar to comment on that. "We're her escort." Escort, bodyguards, servants. Complicated put it simply. "We could lead you there." The Green Warlord ignored his brothers' protests as they glared at the Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince.

He thought about it for a moment, letting these men take him to this Ashkevron. But what if it was a trap? What if this was going to lead further down the hole and into something worse. Was he just going to let it happen? Or should he fight against it, try to find his own way? It seemed too convenient, too perfect and he learned early on things like that were only trouble. More, these three could easily be leading him into a trap. Agents of Dorothea that would try to take him captive and get a pretty reward for it.

The thought alone was enough to set his already fried nerves over the edge.

Then, he suddenly felt a squeeze on his hand and looked up at Andressa. “Don’t,” she said in a low tone with pleading eyes. “Don’t. We can’t afford anymore enemies, Lucivar. Not now.”

“What if they are enemies?”

“Wouldn’t they have attacked outright if they were?”

He eyed the three Warlords again. “I don’t trust them.”

“You’re in shock. I can’t trust them either, but we can’t just sit around doing nothing. And a healer will do us both good. Besides, they don’t know your jewel. You can play it weak and if they happen to pull a trap, you can kill them.”

Lucivar considered it for a few long moments then nodded. “Fine,” he said as he used the Craft to hide his powers from any sort of probes. Then he stood and looked at the barkeep and tossed him a coin. "Lead on, then.”

The world seemed to bend in, a subtle shift towards the singular entity. The ground trembled and groaned from the pressure, dust shifting down from the shattered dome as the rent that tore reality closed behind the massive figure of Negal. As if from a far away place Fate could hear the clashes of distant battles, the cries of the dead and dying. And an even more subtle noise that grew in the back of his head, threatening to overwhelm him to the point of nearly driving him to his knees: the sound of a marching army. He felt sweat drip down his face behind the mask, and within, he felt Nabu shudder.

Fate could feel the eyes of the god regarding him, and for a moment he wondered how he came to this. Only a couple hours prior he was spending time with his fiancee, enjoying her company in their fancy condo. Now, he might never see her again. Funny how that worked. He always imagined himself dying with her by his side, or at the very least on earth. Who could've seen that he would face his end on a different planet light years from his own. It certainly wasn't lost on him either that his name was Fate.

Could he change it however? Could he possibly face a god and come out of it alive? It was mad to think so, but he certainly wasn't going to keel over and let it happen.

"I don't enjoy being used as a weapon, Wotan," Negal said in a quiet, deep voice. "It happened once, it will not happen again."

Fate noticed Wotan's smile falter. "Well, this earthling here will pose a threat to me and to you. He won't let you conquer his planet."

"There are others besides him. What will his death change?"

"One less to worry about?" He could see the nervousness beginning to set into the face the other sorcerer, her eyes widening slightly and sweat beading on her forehead.

Negal seemed to consider it for a time and shrugged his massive shoulders. "I'm here anyway. But this is the last time, Wotan. There will not be a third."

A look of relief overcame Wotan before she settled into an easy smile. "Of course not," then she turned to him. "You have fun with our mutual friend, Fate. I'm sure you'll find the experience quite exhilarating. Not often you get to die at the hands of a god." A bloom of power enveloped her and the construct then disintegrated into a puddle that slowly pooled in front of the throne.

"A shame," Negal said as he held out a hand. Within moments a massive and jagged black scythe appeared in his grip. "You could have been a great ally, Fate."

"You're having regrets about this?" Fate asked incredulously.

"Please understand that I mean no malice when I say your death is meaningless. It is the power I feel from you that I respect and regret that I could not have by my side. Alas," a knowing smirk crossed his features, "things don't always go the way we want, do they?"

His words only served to chill Fate's blood and as he absorbed the full extent of Negal's lament, the more afraid he became. "Whatever you think is going to happen, the power fate is mine."

The smirk turned into smile. "We shall see."
Thor's been hella fun to read too, to be honest. So has a lot of the other characters; the arcs have been incredible. I'm literally over here invested and trying to figure out how each of the characters' arcs are gonna end. Never happened in any RP I've been in so this is pretty damn awesome.

This seems hella interesting still! You guys ever heard of The Boys before because I just looked into the comics and they're pretty damn interesting.

She watched the sun rise over the harbour, turning the dark sky into a mix of bright yellows, purples, and reds with thick clouds shooting out rays of sunlight between gaps as they moved slowly overhead. There was a crisp chill in the air, but this far from the city it was a sort of fresh feeling. As fresh a feeling one could get in New York City. She was standing at the docks in front of her car, her thick fur-tipped overcoat wrapped around her with her gloved hands in her pockets. The wind occasionally blowing auburn strands of hair across her face.

There was a sublime beauty in sunrises. That, and it always reminded her of her fiance. Probably because it resembled the nature of his powers, the way his magic always radiated like sunlight, the way his strength would always make her feel warm when he was around. And in the coldness of the winter, that sunlight was as close she could get to that warmness, and to Kent.

He didn't even tell her where he was going, but she'd gotten used to that a long time ago. Even before his powers he'd just run off somewhere giving her the briefest of explanations. It was only after prodding that he'd tell her, and although she hated doing it, she didn't want to feel shut out. It was who he was. She'd been trying to slowly change that habit of his and finally thought she was starting to make headway until he just disappeared. Once again telling her nothing.

And although it made little sense, she had a strange feeling he was off planet. Of course she couldn't confirm, but she could just tell when he was here, somewhere within the confines of earth whether it be some other country or not. Like a sort of connection that was always cut off when he left the atmosphere.

It's been a day since and there she was still worrying about him even though she knew he was alright. She saw his powers, watched him experiment with them in front of her, take down small time criminals around their neighbourhood from time to time before he started looking towards the stars. He was alright, she knew that, but she couldn't stop worrying, couldn't stop thinking about him.

Inza let out a sigh, and shrugged the thoughts off. As much as she would love to do nothing but think about her man over and over, she had real concerns that needed to occupy her mind. The hospital was starting to go down. Patients were getting frustrated -- and that was the best of circumstances -- and the board was doing little more than pocketing as much money as they could before the entire thing shut down. She couldn't blame them though. Most of the hospital's board weren't even doctors, and those that were hadn't seen any patients for decades; it was easy for them to overlook the suffering of others, see them as only numbers. But she'd only just joined the board, and the memory of practising was still fresh, the need to take care of the patients and make sure they were better was still a priority.

It was why she couldn't let this happen. She had to fight tooth and nail for the place to stay open, but without money that was going to be impossible.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a car pull up behind her, the wheels scratching against the gravel. A few seconds later she heard a door open and close followed by footsteps approaching her.

"Kind of a shady spot you picked here," Eric Charles said as he stopped beside her. "Outta the way. At the docks. Kinda cliche too, really."

She turned to him. Eric was a tall and handsome fellow, dark hair with an immaculate hand-tailored suit underneath an overcoat and scarf. Only thing marring his exquisite features were the bags under his eyes. "The hospital's going down, Eric," she said, "the board couldn't give a shit and no matter how hard I try to get them to see things from the patient's perspective, they won't budge."

"What do you want us to do?" He shrugged, "this ain't easy for us, either, you know that. Thought the whole point of you joining the board was to keep shit like this from happening."

"That was the reason. Which is why I need a favour from you."

"Sure. Anything."

"You still in touch with that friend of yours from the military?"

"I have a lotta friends from the military."

"The one in the NSA."

"Oh. That friend. Yeah, we still talk from time to time. Why?"

"He owe you a favour?"

"I saved his life a couple times on the operating table. Again, why?"

"I need him to do something for me that's not exactly... legal."

Eric narrowed his eyes. "What're you planning, Inza?"

"I'm planning to run a fund raiser for the hospital. I don't want you getting in trouble so tell your friend to get in touch with me."

Eric sighed and looked out to the harbour, shaking his head as he thought about it. "Fine. But, I had no part in this. I like my job. And my freedom."

"I highly doubt you're going to lose your freedom over this, Eric."

"Why're we even over here anyway. We couldn't have done this in a coffee shop?"

"I like watching the sunrise. Reminds of Kent."

Eric paused. "What? I just saw him on my way out of the hospital. He's literally only a couple elevators above you. You can't just bump into him?"

Inza's eyes widened momentarily. She'd forgotten Kent had made a simulacrum of himself months back. "Well, I mean, you know. I just like being reminded of him without actually seeing him?"

Eric snorted a laugh. "Okay. You're.... it's not that deep, but alright none of my business. I'll let you know when I get in touch."

She watched him walk back into his black Mercedes and drive off then turned back to the harbour, a hand brushing away a few strands of stray hair.
Ooh! A Curse of Strahd RP!

Can I jump in on this too? Always wanted to play a CoS campaign!

Fate appeared on an expansive plain with rolling hills to his right and to his left, off in the distance was the burning city with a red sun slowly starting to rise from the horizon. To the front was the hut that he'd made for the survivors and out of it was walking an older man with a balding head, wearing a burned and somewhat dishevelled blue coat tied at the waist with what Kent assumed used to be a rich and well-made white belt with a chipped golden buckle. He waited patiently, at the base of a hill, until the man stopped in front of him, noticing the others slowly making their way out of the hut as well but keeping their distance.

"Tel-Ar," the man said, introducing himself. "What news do you bring from our home, stranger?"

"Kent, please," he said as he removed his helmet and tucked it under an arm. "Nothing good, I'm afraid. A god was summoned and released simply because politics went too far."

The elderly man was silent for a moment, his brows furrowing together as he looked off in the distance, mouthing 'a god'. Then, looking back at him, "What do you mean? Our city, our lives were collateral to some fucking politics?"

Kent looked down, and nodded, "I'm afraid so. Wotan, according to the city's lord, summoned a god to make it look like his experiments went too far."

"Why would she ever do something like that?"

"Lower his numbers in the polls I'm told, so she can get ahead."

Tel-Ar gave him a look. "She doesn't need to lower his poll numbers. She was already in the lead by a large margin." He then turned around, slowly shaking his head. "I lost my family. My daughter." Tel-Ar turned back, his eyes fierce, "I can't understand it. People used to speak so highly of him, the only reason he ran for the High Throne was because he was pushed into it by his advisors. And the entire fucking ordeal changed him. And we pay the price for it."

Kent looked on in sympathy. "I would bring them back if I could," Kent said, a hand reaching for the man's shoulder, hesitating, then going back down to his side, "but not even my powers can truly bring back the dead."

"I wish you could too. We have to look forward and move on, but what's left to us now? Our homes are gone and we're refugees, a scant few with no where to go. What I want now, what we all want is justice. Dealt by our own hands."

A part of him wanted to comply with Tel-Ar's request. To go flying back to the city, bring the politician to them and fly off, leaving them to do with him as they wished. And although he didn't doubt it was the justice that the politician deserved, the question that bothered him was what would come after? Would this not give precedent for others to take matters into their own hands? To depose leaders by force and thus bring on an age of anarchy, citing the moment Tel-Ar and the other survivors did the same. And although that outcome was troublesome, what if someone caught wind of what they'd done and reported it? The planet's police force would undoubtedly bring their own justice to them, perhaps even kill them and sweep the murder of Kendar under the rug to prevent an uprising.

Another planet, and yet these people not only looked but also acted like humans. Would this one moment of giving them what they wanted truly devolve into chaos? It might not. A part of him hoped it wouldn't; a part of him wanted to do it and swear them to secrecy, telling them to speak of it to no one.

But there was the other side to consider: what they would do if he denied his request. They had nothing to lose and everything to gain by killing politicians. That in itself would also bring anarchy and chaos. And he had no doubt that the planet's reporters would be all over one of the survivor's attack on a random politician, thus making their entire ordeal public which would undoubtedly inspire some other idiot to do the same.

He was a servant to Order, sworn to keep chaos in check and make sure things didn't go haywire. It was things like this that made his life difficult, the fucking greyness of it all. No matter which way he looked, the outcomes would always bring chaos, and he had to decide which of lesser evil he wanted to bring into the world. It felt like he was fighting a losing battle.

Kent let out a sigh and put the helmet back on and lifted himself from the ground, rising higher into the brightening, morning sky. "Justice will be yours, Tel-Ar." With that, he turned and flew towards the city.


Although the fires had burned themselves out during the night, the smoke was as thick as ever in the growing light of dawn. Down below, in the streets, he could see ranks of soldiers making their way out of the palace, marching deeper into the city, heading towards a set of hovering vehicles just beyond the city's borders. Curiosity struck him as to where they were going, which quickly turned to suspicion when he realized Kendar's men were supposed to have been killed from the god's sudden attack. He watched them for a moment more, then turned and crashed through the palace's dome.

Once the dust settled he could see the guards inside were strewn about haphazardly, some crushed underneath large pieces of rubble screaming out in pain. Lord Kendar, he noticed, had a force field around him put in place by the two sorcerers that were on either side.

"What's the meaning of this?" Kendar shouted as he stood, looking up at him.

"You're coming with me, Kendar," he said as he descended, "to face justice against your crimes."

"My crimes? Wotan destroyed my city and here you are ruining my palace! What crimes are you going on about?"

"Wotan was leading the polls. She had no incentive to destroy your city, unlike you. Perhaps you were looking to manipulate an outsider to remove your competition. I don't look kindly to being used, Kendar."

"Maybe you'll look more kindly to being killed." Kendar said as he pointed.

The two sorcerers on either side of the lord flew towards him shooting off energy blasts from their raised arms.

Kent lifted a hand, causing two force-shields to form in front of him, while the other telekinetically raised a large piece of rubble and threw it at the right sorcerer. She swerved out of its way as the other formed a spear-like object out of magical energy, preparing to throw it.

In a fluid movement, Kent formed a rope with his free hand that tied around the unbalanced sorcerer's waist and flung her at her partner, causing the spear to fly wide and crash into a part of the dome, sending rubble and dust exploding outward. Below, the sorcerers crashed hard into a pillar breaking it in the middle and sending it toppling into the throne room's aisle.

"I suggest you stay down," Fate said as he pointed an outstretched hand towards the two sorcerers.

"As long as we live," one of the sorcerers said as she untangled herself from the other, "you will not harm Lord Kendar."

"So be it," Dr. Fate said. With a twist of his wrist, the floor underneath them turned into wet cement, hardening as their feet and hands were sucked in. Then, he swung his hand and the floor shifted moving one of the sorcerers across the central isle to the opposite end. Fate then slid both of them up their respective walls as he raised two large pieces of rubble, hollowing out their middle and slamming them over the sorcerers, encapsulating them both.

"Well aren't you just the capable sorcerer," Kendar said in a woman's voice as Fate descended, his boots touching the ground.

Fate hesitated, suddenly confused. "Kendar?"

"Wotan," Kendar's body suddenly shifted into a woman with long black hair, brown skin, and green eyes wearing a black low-cut, split dress with crow feathers sewn onto the shoulders and back. "A pleasure, Doctor Fate."

He stood in shocked silence for moment. He didn't even feel the magic that came from her or her illusion. "What happened to Kendar?" He asked, his voice strained.

"I killed him ages ago and put this construct in his place. I'm a little disappointed you dind't even notice it."

He reached out with his mind, feeling for the magic, and although he couldn't directly feel it, he could taste a hint of sorcery around her. It was unsettling. "I suppose you're the cause of this destruction?"

"Very astute of you, doctor," she said as she sat on one of the throne's arms. "I am, indeed. And for good reason."

Fate's eyes narrowed. "And what reason would that be?"

"To bring an end to Nabu's fatal idealism. You must see that order without chaos will cause chaos. Instability, the loss of life over and over. Do you really want to be party to that?"

"What I'm party of is none of your concern, Wotan. What is my concern however is how you know Nabu."

"We go way back. I've known the fool since he was a mortal deluding himself and his people that he was a god. His arrogance has only grown since then and become far more dangerous. The fool doesn't even realize he's the cause of the universe's imbalance."

Kent was at a loss for words, his mind spinning. One moment Wotan was a political opponent to Kendar and the next she tells him she's an immortal. From earth. A part of him wanted to deny the claim, but he could feel Nabu's presence in his helm and the hatred that was wafting from the him. That alone was enough proof that the two knew each other, but why she was even on this planet was still a mystery. More, why did she impersonate a local lord and summon a god? It seemed random in his mind, but someone like her, who claims to have lived for so long, randomness didn't seem likely. There had to be some sort of design to it all, and whatever it was, the involvement of a god and the sacrifice of lives could only point to something disastrous.

"You speak about imbalance, Wotan," he said trying to keep his voice level, "yet you would cause it by shifting the spectrum in favour of chaos. I cannot allow that. Your hubris is on a level with Nabu's, and just like him -- according to you -- you're unable to see it. Your deluded self-righteousness is a danger to the cosmos and I will stop you."

"I commend you for your boldness, doctor. Too bad it's not going to do you any good." she said as she raised a hand. "Do say hello to Nabu for me."

A portal opened behind him. Turning he watched the emergence of the hulking mass of Negal. Thirteen feet tall, wearing nothing more than a black crown with two twisted horns and a long leather loincloth strapped in place by a giant belt. The power wafting off of him alone caused Fate to stagger back, his heart lurching with fear.
Doomsday Clock is highkey one of my favourite current runs in DC. Holy shit tho!

“A god?” Fate asked suspiciously. “Seems rather convenient that it only destroyed this city and left the palace and lands beyond unmarred.”

“You must understand,” the man on the throne said, “this god was weakened, as my sorcerers tell me, from centuries of imprisonment. And yet, although my cadre of mages and enhanced guards managed to drive it off, they paid for it with their lives.”

“Enhanced guards?”

“My personal retinue. Picked out because they were far more unique than the average Daxami.”

That gave him pause. What the man – lord? – was describing sounded like metahumans, except on their own planet. And someone decided to unleash a god upon this man? To what ends? “Why summon a god here? What motivation would these 'heretics' have to risk their own planet against you?”

“To smear my name, I suspect,” the lord said as he sat back against the throne. “Ever since I starting running to become the High King of this dreadful planet, my opponents have been bending backwards to smear my name and keep me from the Throne.”

“This is political?”

“Isn’t everything?”

“Summoning a god, however? Isn’t that a bit extreme? Exposing a stupid mistake in your past would’ve sufficed.”

The lord gave him a dumb look, which then turned to realization and understanding as he rolled his eyes. “I forget you’re not from this planet. Smear campaigns against those running for High King – or High Queen – of the planet without irrefutable proof is highly illegal in our world. Even alluding to something without some form of evidence can be charged with conspiracy to incite anarchy.”

“And you suspect someone is going to run a smear campaign against you?”

“Most definitely. Even now I can practically see those dreadful reporters rushing to their ships to be the first to get this story.”

“But you just said... what proof do they have against you?”

“I am,” the lord sighed as he waved a hand, “eccentric when it comes to magical experiments. There is no proof to it, but clearly someone’s willing to go to jail to see me far away from the Throne.”

Fate blinked as he took all of it in. Someone was willing to go to great lengths just to see themselves on this High Throne, or to keep this lord off of it. He still didn’t know enough to make any judgments, but he had to give answer to the summoning of a god. He had to stop it, seal it away before it regained its powers and put the entire planet at risk. Whatever happened after that, he would let the proponents of the world figure out; last thing he wanted was to get mixed in with politics, especially on a different planet.

“The god that was summoned, which one was it?”

“You would know more of that than I, Dr. Fate of Earth,” the lord said as he leaned forward, “my sorcerers tell me it’s a relatively ancient earth god with the aspect of War.”

That narrowed it down. There were as many gods of war as there were past civilizations on Earth. It could be anyone of them. He decided to go for another line of questioning. “Do you have any clue as to who plotted this summoning?”

“Who else than that demon Witch Queen, Wotan? She’s also running for the High Throne and although she believes her policies are better than mine, I’m winning the polls. She’s been struggling to connect with the various influential countries and no one’s been giving her ‘the time of day’ so to speak. With this, she’s effectively alienated me from all my supporters and they’ll now flock to her.”

“And this god of war, where will I find it?”

“It could be huddling in a fucking pit for all I care. But to answer your question, it’s probably in or around Terrussan. The country’s entire economy almost practically survives on war and selling weapons to intergalactic terrorists, selling secrets that would incite war, and well. It makes the most sense.”

“I think that’s enough for now, I’ve taken too much of your time already. I’ll seal this god before anymore damage can be done to the planet.”

“You do that. And while you’re at it, do me a favour and expose that bitch Wotan.”

“I’ll make no promises, but I’ll do what I can.” With that a massive ankh appeared underneath him and he descended into it.

Once Dr. Fate left there was a lingering, stretched silence in the throne room. Then, Lord Kendar leaned over to one of his sorcerers, “you need to teach me how to make an exit like that.”

“Of course, my lord.”
I'm trying this fun, new thing where I know exactly how I want to end my arcs without any idea how to get there! It's totally fun and definitely not a frustrating puzzle I make for myself...

Pretty much how I've got my current arc's working too!
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